


I want to know who I am

by Comixgal



Series: This is who we are [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crossdressing, Drag Queens, F/M, Friendship, Gay Bar, Genderqueer Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comixgal/pseuds/Comixgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Chitauri invasion, Steve takes some time to himself. He ends up working in a gay bar and making the sort of self-discoveries that there hadn't been time for before aliens tried to destroy his city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I see myself mirrored in others

**Author's Note:**

> This work will remain rated "M" for mature. I'm sure other works will develop out of this one. Those will most likely be labeled Explicit.

After the Chitauri invasion, Steve had insisted on some time to himself. He hadn’t gone far; preferring to stay in the city. He went back to the parts of town he recognized. His bike had been quietly stored in one of the many self-storage locations and he’d rented a small apartment under a different name.

For the first week, he spent his days wandering the streets of his childhood. The ghosts assaulted him from all sides -- every alley in which he’d been beaten up, every fire escape from which older women had called down to him, every stoop that used to hold gamblers and alcoholics. Things were different now, not necessarily better, but certainly not worse.

After that he’d widened his radius. It was during one of his evening walks that he stumbled across Hector’s. Steve could hear arguing and the sudden loud crash of glass being broken. Without thinking, he rushed into the club and shoved fighting men away from one another. Those that insisted on coming back for more found themselves picked up, shaken, and then handed to the bouncers.

When the fighting was over, an eerie silence fell over the space until a throaty voice said, “Sorry, boys, that’s not the entertainment everyone came for.”

Steve looked around for the speaker and found her on a small stage, grinning in a sparkling dress, dark red lipstick, and eye makeup so green it made her eyes look hazel. Steve grinned back as the woman started to sing a capella until someone joined her on the piano.

The bouncers returned with big smiles and enthusiastic thanks for Steve.

“Nice job.” One of them said, pounding his back.

“You should talk to Hector about a job.” Another one suggested.

Steve blushed. “I- uh- I-”

“Y’all leave him alone, now.” A quieter voice said from nearby. Dark fey eyes sparkled up at him. “Give the man a chance to take things in.” The southern accent seemed out of place with the South Asian features. “Go back to the door. I’ll buy him a drink.”

“Um, I-” Steve watched them go.

“Hush, darlin’. I won’t bite.” The smile showed off perfect teeth. “Would you believe that their names are Gilbert and Sullivan?”

“Like the playwrights?”

“That’s right.”

Steve let himself be led to the bar.

“What are you having?”

“Root beer?” Steve asked, afraid of being teased for his non-alcoholic preference.

Those dark eyes looked him up and down once. “Uh huh.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.” Steve found himself confused as to how to address this androgynous person who was being too kind.

“Just call me Bell. Like the princess but without the ‘e’.”

Steve was thankful that part of his reacclimation process had included all of the Disney movies. “Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve.”

“Likewise.” He held out his hand. The palm that met his was soft and smooth. “Um-”

Bell laughed. “Don’t strain yourself, honey. You can ask all those nosey questions some other time. Just enjoy your drink and Miss Petra’s singing.”

Steve did as he was told, sipping the cool liquid while taking in the atmosphere. He realized, suddenly and with an almost physical shock, that the singer and most of the patrons were male. Men all around him were seated at tables watching Miss Petra sing while they drank everything from beers to bright coloured cocktails.

“Not too uncomfortable, I hope.” Someone said from behind the bar.

Steve spun. The man was burly, had dark hair covering most of his body, and a handlebar mustache that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else.

“No, sir. This is a wonderful bar.” Steve lifted his drink in salute.

“A nice boy like you shouldn’t go around calling men ‘sir’, they might get the wrong idea.” The man said softly, his voice going husky.

“I haven’t been a boy in a long time.” Steve pointed out.

The man laughed, the sound was deep and hearty and completely infectious. “You’ll fit right in.” He finally said between chuckles. “My name’s Hector. I own the place.”

“Steve.” He held out his hand again. The grip was returned strongly and decisively.

“Sully says you helped out with a fight.”

Steve nodded. “I heard glass breaking and just rushed in. Now that I think about it, it was kind of stupid.”

“Or heroic.” Hector shrugged.

The man who was Captain America winced. Did Hector recognize him?

“Listen, we’re a little short-handed in the bouncer department so if you were looking for some part time work, I’d hire you on the spot.”

“You don’t even know me.” Steve said.

“I know you ran into a gay bar without hesitation, dragged some of our biggest men around like they were china dolls, and that you don’t drink after a fight.”

“I’m not-”

Hector held up a hand. “Think about it. If you can be around other people drinking without it being a problem and you don’t mind that sometimes the drunk ones get a little handsy, I think you could be happy here.”

“Thank you, I will.” Steve responded. He didn’t really need a job; S.H.I.E.L.D. and the American government were paying him handsomely, even by today’s standards. Still, having a place to go a few times a week and making new friends sounded like a great reason to get a job.

***

A week later, Steve had his first shift at Hector’s. He and Bert were on front-door duty. They took turns wandering the bar and checking IDs at the door.

Steve learned that there was always someone watching the employee entrance as well, since that was where the performers entered. Bert and Sully had been very clear that you never let anyone walk to their car alone. It was also their job to watch out for possible predators in the bar. Bell had spent two hours showing him pictures of all the most common date-rape drugs and teaching him the symptoms to watch out for. The bartenders and bouncers worked together to keep the patrons safe.

“Go take a break, kid.” Bert said as he lounged at the front. “It’ll be quiet for a little longer. Good time to grab some food and a drink.”

Steve thanked him and wandered up to the bar. “Where’s Bell?” He asked Hector as he accepted his cola.

“He’s in back, helping the girls get ready.” He waved towards the side hallway. “Go say hello and get acquainted with the ladies. And give Bell this.”

Taking the drink from Hector, he weaved around the tables to the back room.

“Steven!” Bell’s voice rang out from behind a pile of dresses. “Oh thank goodness! Hand me that!” The delicate fingers wrapped around the glass. “Miss Wanda is having a fit because her dress is ripped.”

Steve looked around to see several performers comforting someone wearing a wig cap and trying desperately to blot up runny makeup. “Can I help?”

Bell scoffed. “Not unless you can sew. You’d think that gaggle would know how to fix a torn dress.” He waved at them.

“I can sew.” Steve sat down on a stool. “Just show me where.” He was handed a needle and thread that almost perfectly matched the fabric over Bell’s lap.

“You start on that tear and I’ll start on this one.”

They worked quickly, neither saying a word as their needles dipped quickly in-and-out of the sheer fabric. Bell looked up only once to see that Steve had rolled the edges to make sure that the quick fix wouldn’t cause more fraying.

“You do know how to sew!” He said when they’d finished.

Steve grinned. “It’s been a while but it came back to me.”

Bell stood and shook out the cloth. “All fixed, Wanda! Now let’s get you cleaned up!” Bell gave Steve a grateful smile before turning back to the huddle.

***

Steve felt at home within this community of people. No one ever bothered him about his personal life; they were just happy to see him when he was there. He bonded with some of the old-timers who remembered the wars he’d fought in. They talked a lot about having crushes on Captain American way back then. They also spoke about the need to hide themselves and their relationships. It made Steve sad to hear it.

Within two weeks, he felt like a part of a constantly changing family.

“Hey, Stevie, come over here!” Sully called to him as he walked through the door. The bar wasn’t open yet but Hector, Bell, Sully, and Bert were all standing around near the counter. Someone else was with them.

“Grant, this is Steven. Steve, Grant is joining us as both a bouncer and a performer.” Hector introduced.

Steve smiled kindly at the man who was, without a doubt, one of the prettiest and simultaneously masculine men he’d ever met. 

“Pleased to meet you.” Grant said softly. He had the clipped, articulated speech patterns of a trained combatant.

“I look forward to working with you and seeing you perform.” Steve couldn’t help thinking how those lips would look covered in lipstick. He willed his brain to stop that thought before it fully realized.

Bell was watching them interact with a slight smirk. “Alright, boys. You can finish the meet-and-greet later, Johnny is out today and I need some help moving the piano into place.”

Steve volunteered while Bert and Sully continued to show Grant around.

“He’s yummy.” Bell said when they were out of earshot.

Steve felt his ears turn red.

Bell laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you look at anyone like that. Didn’t think you had it in you.” The tone was gently teasing.

Steve shrugged. “I’d rather focus on the job.” He hoped that would be the end of it.

“Fair enough.” Bell led the way to the dressing rooms. “There’s plenty of folks who wouldn’t mind spending time with you. Intimate time.” He said with a nonchalance that was clearly affected.

Steve shrugged again with a small smile. No one here could stand up to the people he had left behind.

Bell didn’t push.

~~~

He was coming in for his usual shift when Hector popped up from behind the bar. “Bell says she needs your help.”

“Where is she?” It had taken him a few weeks to get used to the fact that folks used different pronouns for Bell on different days.

“Downstairs. The barback called out sick and Bell wants you to help bring up some stuff.

Steve rushed to the basement. Bell greeted him happily and started pointing at boxes for him to grab. “Come back once you’ve put those upstairs.”

“Got it.” Steve did as he was told. He continued to do the physical labour as Bell supervised.

When they were finished, Bell started climbing the stairs before Steve stopped her.

“What is it, sugar?”

Steve blushed. “You said I should ask the nosey questions later.”

Bell smirked. “Go ahead.”

“Why does Hector sometimes call you ‘he’ and sometimes call you ‘she’?”

Bell grinned. “Because I’m neither or both or whatever and asking people to use gender-neutral pronouns is too confusing.”

Steve frowned, not understanding. “I’ve never seen you up on stage with the drag queens.”

Bell didn’t roll her eyes and said gently. “That’s because they’re performers. Some of them aren’t even gay. They just like the freedom of expression that comes from dressing up in glitzy dresses, fabulous makeup, and singing in front of a crowd. For me, it’s not a performance. Sometimes I feel like a man. Sometimes I feel like a woman. And sometimes I don’t feel like either. I’m genderqueer.”

“You work in a gay bar. You have a penis. You sleep with men.” Steve pointed out.

"I sleep with Hector." Bell corrected gently. "And yes, Hector is definitely male.” She sighed. “Think of it this way: Sometimes I like to call my lover daddy and get fucked. Sometimes I like to be the one slamming my cock into my man. Sometimes I like to dress up in leather and paddle his ass.”

Standing two steps above Steve, Bell could look him in the face. “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes darken when you’re turned on?”

Steve blushed.

“And sometimes I want him to make love to me like I’m the sweetest, prettiest woman he’s ever met. I don’t let anyone else decide who I’m going to be. If I wake up and it feels right to wear a dress, that’s what I do. If I wake up and I want Hector to fuck me and pretend I can get pregnant, that’s what I ask for. No one tells me what I can do.”

“Oh. Thank you for explaining it to me.” Steve said politely, trying to ignore the tight ball of roiling heat that had lodged itself behind his sternum.

“My pleasure, honey.”

***

Steve called in sick the next day and then cancelled his piano lesson with Bell on Friday. He didn’t feel like leaving his apartment. He’d felt sick to his stomach and out of sorts since Wednesday night.

A knock startled him. The peephole showed Bell standing outside, arms on his hips and a dark expression on the beautiful face. Steve opened the door.

“You never struck me as queerphobic.” Bell said hotly.

“As what? I’m not.” Steve stepped back from the anger radiating off his friend. “What are you doing here, Bell? I cancelled our lesson.”

“I know you did, you son of a bitch!”

Steve took another step back. “Why are you mad at me?”

“Because you turned into a jackass the moment I told you I was queer!”

“No I didn’t!” Steve wasn’t about to willingly let himself be accused of being impolite. “I thanked you for explaining yourself and then let you get back to work.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me? What’s wrong?”

Steve didn’t want to answer that. He turned away from the smaller figure. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Bell snorted. “Bullshit!”

He spun back around. “Leave me alone!”

Hands on hips, feet spread wide, Bell refused to move. “Tell me why you’ve been avoiding me and I’ll leave.”

Steve had a sudden, vivid memory of his own defiant stance before the serum. Bell wasn’t a sickly teen but the image of such a slight, fey person standing up to someone as big as Steve was all too familiar. He dropped onto the couch, not looking up at Bell. “I realized I was jealous.” He finally admitted.

“Jealous? Of me?” Bell asked. “What of?”

“All of it.”

“All of it?”

Steve nodded, face hot.

“Oh. All of it, _all of it_.” Bell suddenly seemed to understanding. “Steve-” He knelt in front of the couch. “Are you genderqueer?”

Steve nodded again. “I think so. I never had words to explain it.” He looked into the kind face. “Growing up, you didn’t express any sort of deviance. I was so small and sick and weak that I just wanted people to respect me.”

Bell took a spot next to him on the couch.

“And then I got stronger and joined the army and it was dangerous to be too different.”

“Oh, Steve.” Long fingers carded through his hair.

“When you said those things. All of them.” The superhero blushed again. “About calling your lover ‘daddy’, and wearing dresses, and- and everything else. It just all came flooding back.”

“You’ve had sex with men?” Bell asked, genuinely curious.

“Yes.”

“Always on top.” Bell guessed and continued at Steve’s murmured affirmative. “It doesn’t have to be like that.” 

Broad shoulders shrugged. It didn’t matter.

“And the rest? Tell me about it.”

Steve cringed.

“Honey. Hey. Look at me.” Bell pulled his head up. “I’m the last person to judge. But you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

It was difficult for Steve to start. He looked at Bell’s face, into eyes lined with makeup and at lips covered in something glossy. “You’re gorgeous.” He finally said.

Bell blushed. It was beautiful as it crept up the dark skin.

“I’m not gay.” Steve stated. “I mean, I’m built like a man and I’m attracted to men, but I don’t feel gay because I don’t really feel completely male. Some days I wake up and I stare at myself in the mirror and it feels wrong. Or I look at my clothes and none of them feel like they belong on my body. I just thought it was because--” He stopped. “Even when I was a kid, it was like that.” He said it like a revelation. “I’d forgotten about that. This is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.” A sort of distressed wonder filled his voice.

Bell pulled him close. “You’re perfect and you’ve always been perfect.”

Steve rested his head on the thin shoulder. It felt good to hear that about something other than his physique. They stayed silent for a long while. Tears began to drop down Steve’s cheeks. They fell in hot splashes against Bell’s shirt.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Bell pulled him closer.

“There’s nothing I can do about this. Nothing.”

“That’s not true!” Bell whispered vehemently. “I promise you that there’s someone out there who will give you everything you need. And we’ll go out tomorrow and get you some clothes that you can wear when you’re feeling dysphoric.”

Steve shook his head and pulled away. “It’s not that easy. I- I’ll have to go back to my job soon -- my fulltime job. And I can’t be queer. I can’t even be gay.”

Bell stared up at him. “Steve, you don’t know what it would do for us, for the community as a whole, if Captain America came out.”

Blue eyes widened in shock. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.

Bell pointed to a corner of the apartment. “Are you telling me that the suspiciously round thing you’ve got covered with a blanket isn’t your shield?”

This was why he’d never invited anyone back to his apartment.

“It’s for a performance. I was thinking of maybe performing at the next amateur night. Everyone keeps telling me I look like him.”

Bell grinned. “I’m looking forward to that. And I’ll hold you to it, honey. But are you sure you don’t want to come clean about your secret identity?”

The irony in that last question struck Steve with it’s hilarity. “Which one? Steve Rogers? Captain America? Gay Steve Rogers? Gay Captain America? Queer Steve Rogers?”

“No Queer Captain America?” Bell asked.

Steve gave a sad smile. “The world isn’t ready for that. I’m not sure the team will understand Queer Steve Rogers.”

“They will.”

The certainty of the assertion made Steve frown. “You can’t know that.”

“I know that Tony Stark is in all the gossip columns about how he has sex with anyone, regardless of gender. I know that Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is over. And I know that a group like that wouldn’t get too far if they spent all of their time passing judgement on one another. I also know that this isn’t the 1950s anymore, sugar.”

Steve curled onto the couch. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.” Bell pressed closer against him.

“Can we still go shopping?” He asked in a tiny voice. He had no idea where to buy clothes for someone his size.

“Of course we can.” She hugged him tightly. “Why don’t you come back to my place? We’ll have that piano lesson, talk about your performance, and I’ll make you something to eat. You can’t stay here and mope forever.”

They walked the three blocks in silence. More than one person gave Steve a dirty look as he approached Bell’s apartment.

“What’s going on?” Steve whispered.

“They think you’re stealing me away from Hector.” Bell laughed. Speaking louder, he said, “I hope you’ve been practicing your scales and chords. You were abysmal last week.”

Those within earshot relaxed.

“They like you a lot.” Steve observed.

Bell shrugged. “I’ve been beat up a few times. Hector asked everyone to keep an eye on me.”

Steve wanted to wrap his friend in a protective bubble. He squashed that feeling, knowing how awful it had been when his friends thought he was too weak and vulnerable to be allowed to live his own life.


	2. I see myself in a mirror

“Nope. Come on!” Bell pulled at his hand to drag him away from the long dresses that had caught his eye. “Those are for the performers. We’re here to get you real clothes. Let’s go.”

Steve felt the urge to duck down as he walked through the racks. He was taller than everyone in the store and could see over the majority of the displays. Bell dragged him into a completely different room. An older woman with a kindly expression hurried by, holding two blouses.

“Bell! Room Three is open. Let me know if you need anything.” She rushed away.

“Thanks, Shelly.” Bell called after her. “Let’s walk around.” He pulled Steve into a sidelong hug. “Pick up anything that strikes your fancy. We’ll get you some blouses, skirts, dresses, and accessories. Your best colours are going to be blue for your eyes and maybe some purples and greys. But just grab whatever you feel like trying on. Everything here is specially cut for less busty figures.”

Steve loved that Bell didn’t call it a “masculine” or “manly” figure. He smiled. “Is this where you get your clothes?”

“Just the everyday wear. I make my own dresses.”

“That’s amazing!” Steve exclaimed. “Your dresses are beautiful.”

Blushing, Bell shrugged. “Gives me something to do. Now, enough about me, honey. Let’s find you some tops.”

Steve followed, randomly touching different fabrics and pulling things off the racks. A few times, Bell shook her head and said, “Too small” or “Won’t look good.” but most of the time she just added a few different sizes of what he’d chosen and draped it over his arms.

“You’ve got great legs. So we’ll get you some hose, stockings, and skirts.”

Steve balked. “My legs are too big for such nice things.”

“Honey, if we can find blouses that fit your broad shoulders, we can find hosiery that make your legs feel like they’re encased in silk. And shoes to match.”

Still a little shocked, Steve let himself be led into a large dressing room.

“Top off. Try those on.” Bell watched Steve handle the soft fabrics and buttons in confusion. He silently showed his friend how to carefully undo the clasps. Still a little wary, Steve slipped it over his head.

“Wow.” Bell whispered. “That’s a good cut.”

Slowly, Steve let himself look up. The body that he saw in the mirror was not one he’d seen before. The curves were accentuated, the sharp lines were smoother, and the sleeves covered his arms without hiding the athleticism. He stared.

When he hadn’t spoken for over a minute, Bell ducked out with a quiet, “I’ll find some other things.”

Bell returned to find Steve curled up in the corner, sobbing.

“Steve, sugar, what’s wrong?”

Steve couldn’t speak. Every time their eyes met, more tears fell.

“Honey, it’s okay. I get it. I do.” Bell soothed. “Weird to see something in the mirror that you’d only pictured in your head. Right?”

“Weird and good.” Steve hiccuped.

“I know. Must have been a shock after going through your whole transformation with the serum and getting used to your new body. You didn’t expect you could look like this, did you?”

“N-no.” Steve wiped away the tears. “I’m sorry.”

Bell handed over a tissue. “Don’t apologize! It’s good to let it out. Cathartic. You look beautiful. Let’s try on a few more things. If you want to leave after we get one full outfit, that’s okay. We can come back some other time.”

After scrubbing his face dry, Steve stood up.

“I bought these for you. Nothing fancy. Just something better than boxer briefs.” Bell held out a pack of cotton… well… cotton panties. “They’re a special brand, made especially for your body type. If you feel up to it, you should put them on before you try the skirts and slacks.”

Strong hands ripped into the package. He didn’t even wait for Bell to leave or turnaround. The crying had released the largest knot of “wrongness” that he hadn’t quite been able to shake. What he felt now was a hunger; a need to see a body dressed in a way that matched his mind’s-eye.

Bell took all of this in stride. Once the panties were on, she handed Steve a pair of stockings. “Go slowly. You don’t want to rip them.”

Steve luxuriated in the sensation of the material as it traveled up his muscular legs. He spent several more moments running his hands across it before accepting the skirt.

“Zippers are here and here.” Bell showed. She had started with a full-length skirt in black. It swished around Steve’s ankles as he made tiny half-turns. “Relax your shoulders. Good. Take a few breaths without standing at attention. Nice. See how the top settles even better?” Bell took a few steps back. “Walk towards me as if you were approaching a small child.”

Steve relaxed more of his body, took a few breaths, and walked slowly towards his friend.

“Well done. Try again without such a wide stance.” She smiled as Steve approached. “Great. Now turn around and do it while walking towards the mirror.”

“I look amazing.” Steve whispered. “I look like- I look like me!”

Bell had another tissue ready. “That’s right. Now lets try on some other outfits. You want some a lot of choices for mixing and matching when you need to dress.”

Steve let Bell give orders and he simply followed them. His artist’s eye for colour and detail had led him to choose items that went well with his skin tone. Every combination that Bell suggested was a winner.

Shoes caused a brief moment of contention between them. Steve insisted on flats, feeling too tall and gangly, even dressed up, while Bell wanted him to own at least three pairs of heels.

“Don’t buy them for everyday wear.” She insisted. “You’re going to need heels when you perform and trust me, they aren’t nearly as complicated to walk in as you think they are. You have perfect balance.”

“I’ll break an ankle.”

Bell shrugged. “Fine. After you see the shoes the other ladies wear when they perform, maybe you’ll come to your senses. Try those on.” She pointed imperiously to a simple black wedge with the tiniest lift.

With over a dozen possible outfits and five pairs of shoes, Steve had reached his shopping quota. The novelty of wearing the clothes had been subsumed by the exhaustion that he suddenly felt.

“Keep the panties on and whatever else you’d like to wear. We’ll have the rest of the stuff delivered to your place. Then you can take me out to lunch as a thank you.”

Steve chose the original shirt and a pair of jeans that were cut differently than his usual pants. “I wish I had a wig.”

“You’re beautiful without it.” Bell pointed out.

“The military cut is a little severe.”

Bell nodded. “I thought you might say that. Here.” She removed a wig from a bag she’d been carrying. The hair was sandy blonde and a few inches longer than Steve’s. “Try this on.”

With a little help and some adjustments from Bell, Steve was pleased with the effect. The person that stared back from the mirror was undeniably feminine.

“Let’s go, honey. I’m starving!”

Steve followed her out to the front where Shelly rang everything out and packed it away for delivery.

“Lunch time!” Bell announced, hooking an arm through Steve’s and leading them both down the street to a small bistro.

Warmth flooded through Steve when the waiter asked, “What can I get you ladies?” He caught Bell’s eye and grinned.

***

Steve headed to the employee entrance to give Sully a break. Grant was standing just outside the door, kissing a smaller, curly-haired young man. Steve couldn’t help smiling at the scene they made. Grant’s boyfriend was pressing close, melting against the broad chest. They were being watched by Terry, who went by Miss Tess on the stage.

They broke apart slowly, so clearly in love. When Grant turned, he smiled at them. “Hey. Steve. Hey Terry, this is Leo.”

“Fitz.” The other man corrected.

Grant curled his nose. “Fitz, Terry.” The two men shook hands. “Fitz, Steve.”

“Steve?” Fitz asked.

“Yes.” He knew where this was going. “I know, I know, I look like Steven Rogers.” He had practiced that exasperated shrug in the mirror. “Just lucky, I guess.”

The man chuckled. “Indeed.” He gave a last kiss to Grant before walking away from the building.

Terry watched him go, “Well, isn’t he a cute little twi-”

Grant had the other man up against the wall before he could finish the sentence. “Don’t you ever call him that. _Ever_!”

Steve pulled Ward away. “Terry, go get ready.” The man fled. Steve held Ward back, it wasn’t hard, Ward wasn’t struggling. “It was just a physical description. Not a judgement statement.”

Ward nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Terry. He’ll understand if you explain that you don’t like the word twink.” He shook Ward slightly. “No more physical altercations. Understood?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, Steve.” He seemed genuinely contrite.

“Good. You’ve got a little time before your performance and then you can take a shift up front.” He released the man. As an aside he said, “Fitz seems too smart to care about what other people call him.”

Grant laughed a little. “Actually, he’s a genius. And you’re right, he doesn’t care. I do.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ll see you inside.”

***

“Stop that! You’ll ruin the line!” Bell managed to shout over a mouthful of pins.

Steve tried to hold still but there was a pin digging into his side.

“Ah! Found it.” A quick flick reset the pin properly. “Now stop moving.”

This time, Steve couldn’t hold still because he was rehearsing his performance in his head. It was styled off of the old USO performances he’d done. Bell had found a way to mix both Captain America’s act with the dancing of the USO girls. The dress would be a longer, sparklier version of what the women had worn. Long slits up the sides made it possible for Steve to move easily.

Bell finally put down the pins. “Alright. Enough. Let’s get you out of that and you can practice the song while I finish the seams.”

Wriggling carefully, Steve stepped out of the gown and back into the flannel robe he’d been wearing for the dress fitting.

***

A sudden loud clamor pulled Steve out of his quiet reverie and he locked the back door before moving towards the front.

“HOLY SHIT!” Hector’s voice boomed. “Phillip Coulson you get your sexy ass over here right this minute!”

Steve froze in his rush towards the bar. Phil was alive? He felt faint. “Relax, Steve. There are plenty of people in the world named Phil Coulson. Just relax.” He whispered to himself as he hugged his torso.

After a few deep breaths, he peeked around the the wall to see Phil, the real, live, breathing Phil, surrounded by over a dozen men. He looked tired but happy -- happier than he’d looked during any of the times Steve had met him.

Bell almost ran into Steve as she rushed around the corner. “Steve! You have to come meet Phil!”

“We’ve met.” Steve replied weakly. “I- we- I-” he took a deep breath, “we thought he was dead.”

Soft hands cradled his face. “Oh, sweetie.” Bell hugged him tight. “That must have been so hard for you all. You especially. I’ve listened to him go on and on about Captain America. I can’t imagine what it must have been like between the two of you.”

“Awkward.” Steve laughed as the tension eased in his chest. “The first time we met, he told me that he’d watched me sleep.” He shook his head at the memory. “I was just so shy and then this man who is supposed to lead our team comes out with the most awkward greeting. I just- I never told him that it made me like him more. It made him seem more human.”

Bell laughed with him.

“He can’t know I’m here, Bell. He can’t see me like this.” He passed a hand over the blouse and skirt he was wearing. "He can't know that I work here."

Well, that made no sense, as far as Bell was concerned, but she nodded. If there was one thing you didn’t do, it was out someone who didn’t want to be outed. “Phil never comes back here. You’re fine.” She paused. “What are you going to do about your performance?”

At those words, Grant rushed out of the dressing room. “Phil Coulson is here?” He began wiping makeup off his face with one hand as he pulled the wig and wig cap off with the other. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Both Bell and Steve stared at him in surprise. Bell indignantly grabbed the wig away from the flailing hands. “Be careful with that!”

“You know Phil?” Steve asked.

“He’s going to be my new team leader. We found out he was alive earlier this week and got assigned to his new team toda-” Grant stopped. “Oh my god. You know him too? You’re Steve Rog-”

Steve had a hand over his mouth before he could finish the words. “Please don’t.” He slowly removed his hand. “You’re right. Just- Please don’t say it outloud. You can’t tell anyone. Not even Fitz. Please.”

The man was frowning in confusion. “Of course I won’t. But don’t they all know that you’re here?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?” He glanced at Bell. “I know I’ll need to go back to that monstrosity that Stark calls a tower but I’m really happy right now.”

Grant nodded. “Yeah. Of course you are. No one here cares if you’re gay or a drag queen or anything else.”

They both realized that Grant was talking as much about himself as Steve.

Bell spoke up for the first time. “I’ll let Tess know that she can do a second set. She’ll be thrilled.”

Grant looked down at his dress. “Oh shit.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I have to get out of here.”

“Get cleaned up and you can slip out the back before anyone knows.” A thought occurred to him. “Were the Avengers told? Clint? Natasha? Tony? They’ll want to know.”

“I have no idea.” Grant admitted. “I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be common knowledge.” He disappeared into the dressing room.

Steve sighed, knowing that he would have to check his “emergency Stark phone” when he got back to the apartment.

“I really like it here.” He said again, to himself, as he surveyed the empty hallway. “I really, really like it here.”


	3. I see myself as I am

“This isn’t so bad.” Steve said aloud, trying to convince himself, as he shut the door on two of the three bedrooms that made up his suite in the Tower. He missed his tiny apartment that smelled like home and the city. This place was too much.

So far, his arrival seemed to have gone unnoticed. JARVIS had let him into his apartment and he’d spent the evening figuring out how best to hide some of his clothes. Eventually, frustrated and annoyed that he should need to hide anything, he put the dresses in one of the spare bedrooms and let the rest mingle with his jeans and shirts. 

It was morning now and Steve expected at least Tony to show up at his door. The emergency phone that he’d promised to check every day had simply said, “Come back.”

“Sir, Dr. Banner has asked if you’ve returned. What would you like me to say?”

Steve shrugged to himself. “Tell him he’s welcome to stop by.”

“Very well.”

***

Bruce knocked hesitantly and was wiping his glasses when Steve opened it. “Hi.”

“Hi, Steve. Welcome back.” Bruce replaced the glasses with a small smile.

“Thanks. Please come in.” Steve led the way. “I’m sorry, I don’t have much to offer you in terms of food or drinks.”

“I’m fine.” Bruce replied. “I just came to tell you that we’re having some sort of big meeting happening in the common area. They want all of us there in half an hour.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll be there. But why didn’t you just have JARVIS tell me?”

Bruce fiddled with his glasses again. “I just thought it might be good to come say hello.” He looked at Steve and blinked. “You look different.”

A knot of fear lodged itself in Steve’s stomach. 

“You look happier.” Bruce explained, “and more comfortable with yourself.”

Steve grinned. “Thank you.”

Bruce had blinked again at the smile that split the man’s face. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.”

“So what do you think this meeting is about?” Bruce wondered.

He didn’t know what to say. More than likely, it was to tell them that Agent Coulson wasn’t as dead as they’d thought. He shrugged. “I guess we’ll see. Have you been working with Tony?”

Bruce chuckled. “I’ve been working in my own lab. Tony and I collaborate from time to time but it turns out that he doesn’t like sharing his work space.”

Steve also chuckled. “That’s not too surprising.”

The two sat in companionable silence for a bit.

“Betty has been visiting me. That’s been wonderful.”

Steve racked his brain to remember if Bruce had ever mentioned a Betty before. A memory of Tony saying something about Bruce needing to get laid and flying Betty in from California was all that surfaced. “I’m very happy to hear that.”

Bruce’s smile had turned shy. “She moved to Massachusetts. It isn’t too far to travel to see me from time to time. I’ve missed her.”

He could only nod.

“Where were you this whole time?” Bruce wanted to know.

“I rented a small apartment in the city. I made friends and worked in a bar. I started taking piano lessons and I start art classes next week.”

“Oh.” Bruce seemed surprised then laughed at himself. “That’s wonderful! I don’t know why I expected you to be out late at night, being some sort of morally perfect vigilante.”

That made Steve laugh. “I enjoyed learning how to live in this century.”

“It seems to suit you.” Bruce complimented.

Blushing slightly, Steve motioned towards the front door. “Should we head upstairs?”

They continued to chat amiably in the elevator.

***

Clint was perched on the top of a tall table. He nodded a quick hello to the two of them before returning to his whispered conversation with Natasha, who was sitting nearby.

Tony entered with Thor, who greeted everyone with a loud and joyous, “Well met, friends! I see that we have all been asked to return!”

Steve found Thor’s presence almost more surprising than the knowledge that Coulson was alive. He hadn’t expected the Asgardian to be able to return. He said as much and was treated to a confusing explanation about planetary alignments and energy flows that meant Thor had been sent back to Midgard and was stuck there for three weeks. He’d then return to Asgard and try to help fix the Bifrost.

Bruce stopped Tony before he could get too deep into a scientific discussion about fixing a mythical rainbow bridge. “Is anyone going to tell us why we’ve been gathered back together?”

Maria Hill stepped into the room at that moment. “I will.”

They all turned to her.

“Actually, it might be better just to show you.”

Even though Steve had been expecting it, seeing Phil Coulson came as a physical shock. He rocked back on his heels, taking in the man’s solid presence.

“SON OF COUL!” Thor boomed. “You are alive!” 

Phil smiled at Thor and at each of them in turn. Clint and Natasha had gone still as statues. Steve couldn’t even see or hear them breathing. In a sudden explosion of motion, Natasha was hugging the suit-clad man. Clint held back. Steve was surprised to see the way his eyes pinched and nostrils flared.

Tony didn’t seem to notice Clint’s reticence as he asked a few dozen questions in the space of a minute. Maria eventually put a stop to the questions with a firm, “That’s classified.” This response sent Tony on a rant about government secrets that only quieted when Thor insisted on everyone sharing a drink!

Steve watched Clint remain silent and attentive.

When, an hour into the drinking and toasts, both Phil and Clint mysteriously disappeared, Steve also slipped out of the room. He walked lightly down the hall until he heard low voices. Peering around a corner he saw Clint with his head buried against Coulson’s chest, sobbing quietly as the agent hugged him tight and told him everything would be fine.

Not wanting to intrude, Steve returned to the rest of the group, said goodnight, and headed to bed.

***

It was a Wednesday night and Steve just wanted to grab a quick snack before heading out.

“Hey Steve! We’re going to a bar tonight! You should join us!” Tony shouted exuberantly.

“Oh. Ummm. Thank you. But I have my piano lesson tonight.”

“Come _onnnnnnnnnn_! You go out like every evening! I want to see your reaction the first time you see drag queens! And apparently they have one that looks like you and does Captain America performances.” Tony mistook Steve’s look of horror. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

Steve shook his head. “I really can’t.”

Thor’s voice boomed across the space. “I am told that their MC-” He checked with Tony that this was the correct word, “that their MC is a most beautiful woman.”

Too preoccupied by the realization that his teammates were going to Hector’s, Steve hadn’t registered Phil’s presence. He flinched visibly at the man’s soft voice.

“Actually, Bell identifies as genderqueer and doesn’t work Wednesdays.”

At the confused looks he received, Phil said, “Genderqueer is an umbrella term used to describe individuals who don’t fit into the male/female binary. Bell responds to both male and female pronouns and eschews the idea that one cannot embody all genders.”

Steve’s throat felt tight. He must have looked out of sorts because Phil said, “They’re going to a gay bar that I used to frequent. Drag queens are men, not always homosexual men, who dress as women to sing and dance - often rather flamboyantly. I just explained genderqueer but if you have any questions about the gender binary, I’d be happy to try to explain.”

“Thank you, no. I really need to go to my lesson.” Steve said before rushing away.

***

Later that evening, Steve opened the door to find Phil standing in his suit and looking handsome but nervous.

“Please come in, Agent Coulson. What can I do for you?” He watched Phil fidget. “Would you like some coffee? I haven’t figured out the machine in the kitchen but I’m sure JARVIS could walk me through it.”

“No, no. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.” He gave a small smile.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“How did the piano lesson go?” Coulson asked.

Steve grinned happily. “Very well!” He pointed to the Casio electric piano that sat in a corner. “I’m enjoying the lessons quite a lot.”

“Good, good.” Phil cleared his throat, “Listen, I realized that I threw a lot of personal and possibly confusing information at you, earlier, and I wanted to check in.”

Steve tried not to laugh at the adorable awkwardness of this conversation. “Agent Coulson-”

“Phil.”

“Phil. I appreciate your concern but I am neither appalled nor confused by your revelations.”

The man frowned slightly.

Steve continued, “Everyone seems to think that I was unaware of homosexuality prior to my awakening in this century. I assure you that is not the case.”

“Oh.” Phil looked stunned.

“Agent- Phil, is there anything else?”

Coulson shook his head. “Um- no. I didn’t expect this conversation to go quite this way. I mean, you now know that I’m gay and you know that I am one of your biggest fans and you’re reacting very well to that combination of facts.”

Steve swallowed against the sudden realization that a young Phil (and perhaps a not-so-young Phil) had probably used Captain America as mastabatory material. Instead he smiled and said, "How was the bar?"

"Good. A bit nostalgic."

"And the drag queens?"

Phil gave him a strange look.

"I asked my piano teacher." It wasn't a real lie... Bell had explained the performers when they'd first met.

"Fun performances." He paused. "Don’t tell Tony but the Captain America performer always does sets on Thursdays."

Steve’s eyebrows went up. “You’ve seen her- him- the sets?”

“No. My team always does night maneuvers and simulations on Thursday evening. I asked around tonight. Hector, the owner, told me that the performer only comes on Thursdays.”

“Oh.” Steve could think of nothing else to say.

“Each number is based on one of your USO performances. Fitz thinks you’d like them. Skye thinks it might be too surreal and painful for you to be reminded of that time.”

It was this conversation that was surreal. “You’ve discussed this with your team?”

Phil actually blushed. “Ward mentioned it when he thought I was out of earshot.”

“He underestimates you.”

That made Phil laugh. “He thinks I don’t know that he and Fitz are together and that he performs in drag on his nights off.”

Steve’s eyes widened.

With a shrug, Phil went on. “I don’t care what he does as long as it doesn’t threaten our people. I don’t care who he sleeps with as long as he’s safe. And I couldn’t have chosen a better place than Hector’s for the former and Leo Fitz for the latter.”

That was heartwarming. “How long have you been going there?” Steve asked conversationally.

“Almost six years.” Phil admitted. “I started because I had a huge crush on Bell. And then, well, I stayed because it was a good place.”

Steve didn’t know why he was so surprised. “Bell?”

“That’s right. I think you’d really like her. She’s kind, generous, resourceful. Bell doesn’t let anyone get away with anything.” His voice trailed off. Almost too softly for Steve to hear, he said, “I could have given her everything she wanted.”

“Pardon?” Steve prompted.

“I know Bell’s happier with Hector than he would ever be with me but- well, I still think about him.”

“Did you ever tell Bell that you were interested?” Steve was fascinated by this history.

Phil’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re taking this all very well.”

“Agent Coulson-”

“Phil.”

“Agent Coulson, I have spent the majority of my time with you and other members of the Avengers either fighting or being condescended to for my lack of current cultural knowledge. I don’t care who you are intimate with. I don’t care how people choose to live their lives. I fought for the freedom of this nation and the rights of all. I will not tarnish the memories of those I fought with by ignoring that love comes in all forms.”

Stunned into silence by this speech, which was by far the most Steve had ever said to him, Phil swallowed. “Steve, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-- ”

“It’s fine. I’ve had a long day. Perhaps we could continue this conversation some other time?”

***

Two weeks later, Steve was curled up on Bell’s couch. The piano lesson hadn’t gotten very far - Steve had been too keyed up and distracted to focus.

“I hate it! I feel trapped, like I can’t be who I want to be.” Steve dropped his head into his hands. “I haven’t felt like that since before the serum, when they wouldn’t let me enlist.”

Bell was done trying to console him. “It’d be easier if you came out to them. You could dress the way you wanted instead of hiding yourself.”

“They won’t understand.” Steve muttered into his hands.

Bell smacked him gently upside the head. “Coulson already understands. As for everyone else, they’ll come around. You’re making yourself miserable.”

Steve grumbled and pulled a pillow over his ears.

***

The next morning the dysphoria hit Steve hard. All the clothes he felt comfortable wearing around the others felt wrong and confining. They were expecting him for brunch and Steve had absolutely no desire to leave the apartment.

“JARVIS, please tell them I won’t be attending.” He said as he pulled on panties and soft leggings.

“Very well, sir.”

Next, Steve put on a simple blue tank top with a built in bra shelf. Feeling a little less… itchy… Steve returned to bed.

“Sir,”

Steve flinched at the address,

“Agent Coulson has asked if you would welcome company.”

“No!” Steve pulled the blanket closer around himself. “I’m fine. Just not up for brunch.”

“Of course.” JARVIS didn’t sound convinced. “I will let him know.”

Steve burrowed further under the comforter. He was looking forward to performing tonight and being surrounded by friends.

***

“Steve!” A breathless voice called his name from somewhere behind him. He was in the process of putting on eye makeup and couldn’t turn without smearing it. A handsome face came into view.

“Ward! What are you doing here?”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent pursed his lips. “That’s what I’m coming to tell you -- We got the evening off and Coulson is going to be here tonight.”

Steve’s hand jerked. Eyes closed, he tried to control his breathing. A cool cloth against his face startled him. Ward was gently removing the line of mascara Steve had pulled across his cheek.

“If Coulson is coming here, why are you here?” Steve wanted to know.

Ward looked briefly away. “He admitted to knowing about my performances and my relationship with Leo. He used to perform too. Did you know that?”

A loud crack was Ward’s response as Steve’s spasm of surprise broke the wooden arm of his chair.

“Yeah, Bell didn’t tell me either.” Ward said darkly. “Apparently, he never performed here but he’s not a stranger to drag.”

The tightness in his lungs felt too much like an impending asthma attack. Steve pushed Ward gently away. “Are you on the schedule tonight?” He asked.

The man nodded. “Second set in and then a shift at the front.” He looked into the blue eyes. “Are you going to perform?”

Steve looked at the piece of chair that he was still holding. “I’m not just going to perform.” He finally said. “I’m going to rock his socks.”

Ward guffawed at the anachronistic phrase. “I bet you will.” He’d finished cleaning up Steve’s makeup and sat down to do his own.

Steve put on his favourite wig and made last minute preparations.

***

Bell’s eyes twinkled as he introduced Miss America to the audience. The music started and Steve stepped out, feeling more confident and beautiful than ever. He smirked out at the audience, twirled once, and then again as the audience whistled and hollered.

“Good evening, darlings.” Miss America winked. “Are you sure you’re ready for what I have to offer?” She searched for, and found, the wide eyes of a normally stoic Phil Coulson. The crowd insisted they could handle whatever Miss America dished out. Blowing a kiss directly at the stunned Agent, she started to sing. The music swelled and Steve lost himself in being Miss America. When the set ended, the applause was thunderous. They demanded an encore.

Grinning, Miss America nodded. “This one, fellas, is for those guys and gals that you hate to leave behind.”

It was an old song that Steve remembered hearing at the USO parties many times. It was throaty and slightly melancholy, meant for slow dances and stolen kisses. Sung a capella, it lacked some of its effect until the rich sounds of the piano filled in the harmony. Miss America grinned at Bell, “Thank you, gorgeous.” She said as, for the first time ever, she stepped off the stage and into the audience.

Behind the protective flamboyance of Miss America, Steve continued to sing, stopping every few feet to croon suggestively at one of the patrons. Upon reaching Ward, who was sitting near the front door, Miss America insisted on a partner for a few measures of slow dancing and a piano solo. Ward was smiling as he dipped Steve backwards, to the approval of everyone there.

Miss America gave Ward a kiss on the cheek and then let him spin her away -- almost directly into Coulson. Landing lightly on the man’s lap, she continued her song while staring into his eyes. “Haven’t seen you here before, sugah.” She said before stepping away again. As the song wound down, she made her way back up to the stage. The last notes drifted away completely before Bell, Coulson, and everyone else, surged to their feet in a standing ovation.


End file.
